


How Wonderful Life Is While You're in the World

by Domi33



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Falling In Love, Feelings, Friends to Lovers, Implied Smut, M/M, Mutual Pining, They love each other, all the feelings, and yes it will have significance in the story, but don't worry there's a happy ending, no graphic smut scene tho, yes the title is from elton john's your song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 18:05:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19381957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Domi33/pseuds/Domi33
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale fall in love with each other but it takes them way too long to admit their feelings, and even when they do, things are quite complicated.





	How Wonderful Life Is While You're in the World

**Author's Note:**

> I dedicate this fic to a really good friend of mine, the Crowley to my Aziraphale. You know who you are! Thanks for saying "Aziraphale is quite easy to tempt" when we watched the show together, it gave me a lot of inspiration for the second to last scene.

Even though six thousand years had passed since Crowley first met Aziraphale, he still remembered the exact moment he fell in love with the angel.

_“Didn’t you have a flaming sword?”_

_“Uh…”_

_“You did. It was flaming like anything. What happened to it?”_

_“Uh…”_

_“Lost it already, have you?”_

_“Gave it away.”_

_“You_ what _?”_

It all started when Crowley learned just how much Aziraphale loved humanity from the very beginning. This was something they had in common; something neither Heaven nor Hell was too happy about, yet they couldn’t help it.

At first, Crowley didn’t realize what he felt for Aziraphale was love, let alone _romantic_ love. All he knew was that he _needed_ to be around Aziraphale, to make him happy and to make sure he was safe. It was nothing more than an annoyance, really. Crowley knew that demons weren’t supposed to be kind to others, _especially_ not angels. He knew that if anyone in Hell were to find out what he was doing, he would be in trouble, but he still decided to take the risk because Aziraphale was worth it.

It was when they watched Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet together for the first time that Crowley realized he was in love. Seeing two young lovers who thought death was better than living without each other made him re-evaluate all those thousands of years he’d spent with Aziraphale. All of a sudden he saw everything in a new light.

 _I would rather die in a sea of holy water than live without you,_ Crowley thought as Aziraphale was walking next to him after the play ended.

_Fuck._

Crowley didn’t know what to do next. It’s not like he could just stop in the middle of the street, turn to Aziraphale, and say “I just realized I’ve been in love with you for thousands of years”.

_Dear Satan, what would he think?_

For the next few centuries, Crowley was determined to hide his feelings, both from himself and Aziraphale. It was hard, of course, but he managed. The only problem was that whenever Aziraphale looked at him, Crowley felt an all-consuming urge to kiss him. He didn’t like that. It was too _human_. He didn’t understand why people loved being in love so much anyway; it was _horrible_ , and honestly quite inconvenient.

There were some moments over the years when Crowley almost convinced himself that Aziraphale felt the same way about him. _Almost_. He couldn’t forget the way Aziraphale smiled at him when he turned up in Paris in 1793 to save the angel’s ass or his loving gaze after Crowley saved those books from the Nazis in 1941.

Still, none of these instances were enough to convince Crowley to confess his feelings. He kept his desires to himself, and everything remained the same until 1967.

_“Perhaps one day we could… I don’t know. Go for a picnic. Dine at the Ritz.”_

Crowley wasn’t sure if Aziraphale’s offer was an invitation for a date but he didn’t dare ask.

_“I’ll give you a lift. Anywhere you wanna go.”_

_“You go too fast for me, Crowley.”_

Before Crowley could have asked what exactly Aziraphale meant, the angel was already gone, leaving the demon alone to try to understand what happened that night. It was clear that Aziraphale cared about him a lot, otherwise he wouldn't have given him the holy water. But did that mean anything? And why did Aziraphale declare that Crowley went too fast for him? Did he desire Crowley the way Crowley desired him? Was he scared of his own feelings?

 _No, of course not. He doesn’t want you, you stupid demon,_ Crowley kept telling himself. _He would be disgusted if he knew what you’re thinking._

* * *

It was in 1941 that something changed in Aziraphale. Crowley had just saved his books in the church, and the angel stood there, frozen in place, looking at Crowley as he walked away. What Crowley had done was not very _demon-like,_ but then again, Aziraphale had always known that Crowley was not like every other demon around.

From that point on, he grew quite fond of Crowley. The only problem was that even though he genuinely liked the demon, he knew it wasn’t _right_. It was best to keep their friendship casual.

“Friendship” was Aziraphale’s way of defining his feelings. It seemed like the safer option, giving him the comfort of not having to think about it any further. Thinking could have led to dangerous realizations he wasn’t prepared to deal with.

Even though he and Crowley began to spend a lot of time together, Aziraphale was able to keep his distance; both he and Crowley knew better than to cross the boundaries they set for themselves.

Something happened, however, in 1998. It was January 15, to be precise, when Aziraphale decided to purchase a lot of new vinyl records. He walked into the record shop with an extensive list of all the albums he wanted.

“You’re lucky, I have all of these,” the owner said when Aziraphale showed her the list. She disappeared into the back room for a few minutes, holding a box in her hand when she re-entered. “I gathered everything you want in this box,” she explained. “But if you buy four more, it will be cheaper. We have a discount.” She pointed at a large sign on the wall that said: “ _VINYL RECORDS – BUY 20 FOR THE PRICE OF 10_ ”.

“I don’t want to throw them out,” she said. “But nobody buys them anymore.”

“Oh dear,” Aziraphale sighed. He was quite mad that ever since tapes and CDs were invented people started to forget about the magic of vinyl records. “Alright, I’ll buy twenty.”

“Okay, what records should I add to your box?”

“Uh…” Aziraphale didn’t know what to say, until he remembered Crowley’s favorite band. “Do you have any Queen albums?”

“Yes, I do,” the woman nodded. “Three of them, actually. A Night at the Opera, A Day at the Races, and Jazz.”

“Alright, I’ll take all of them.”

“Okay, that’s nineteen records. You still need to choose one more.”

“Just add whatever you like, I don’t mind,” Aziraphale decided. He just wanted to go back to the bookshop and start listening to his new records while reading Milton’s Paradise Lost as soon as possible.

“Are you sure?” the owner asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

“Yes, absolutely sure,” Aziraphale said.

“Okay,” she nodded, pulling another album off of a shelf and putting it in Aziraphale’s box.

After paying for the records, Aziraphale took them back to his bookshop. He put the Queen albums away separately, making a mental note to give it to Crowley next time they saw each other. After that, he took the rest of the albums out. At first he was surprised when he found an Elton John album among them, but he then remembered telling the woman to add whatever record she wanted as the twentieth one.

Aziraphale couldn’t recall ever hearing a song from Elton, but he did meet the musician a couple of times, back in the 1970s. They got along surprisingly well and the parties Elton invited him to may or may not have led him to drunkenly kiss some semi-famous pop singers who all tried to impress him with their musical talent.

Thinking about those experiences made Aziraphale feel nostalgic.

Anyone who had ever met the angel knew that he liked indulging in human pleasures, be it literature, music, travel, food, or even shopping. What most people didn’t know, however, was that he had a taste for _other kinds_ of pleasure as well. It might be surprising considering he was an angel, but Aziraphale had his fair share of experiences when it came to sexuality. So much, in fact, that if someone were to ask him to name all the famous people he’d ever been involved with and he was to tell them the truth, they would have a hard time believing it. Among those famous people were Oscar Wilde and Alan Turing, the two most notable relationships Aziraphale had had in the past few centuries.

‘Relationships’ might not be the best label to define the affairs Aziraphale had with these men, though, but there’s no right word for “I’m an immortal being and even though I genuinely care about you, I cannot overlook the fact that you are going to die soon, so I’m sorry but I absolutely cannot fall in love with you”.

Aziraphale looked over to one of his bookcases, where he kept his signed copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray. It was a long time ago that Oscar gave it to him but he still remembered that night like it had been just yesterday. And it wasn’t only Oscar Wilde that he couldn’t forget about. No, he remembered every single human being he got attached to but ultimately outlived. Perhaps this was the reason why he hadn’t even kissed anybody for at least fifteen years now. He was scared of getting his heart broken again, so he hadn’t let himself get too close to anyone in a while. Well, anyone except Crowley, but that was a different kind of closeness. Crowley was his _friend_.

While Aziraphale kept contemplating friendship and connections, he decided to give the Elton John record a try. He’d always been curious what Elton’s music sounded like.

_It’s a little bit funny, this feeling inside_

_I’m not one of those who can easily hide_

As the first song started, Aziraphale listened carefully, trying to decide whether he liked it or not. After the first verse, he concluded that it wasn’t as bad as he’d previously assumed.

_I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words_

_How wonderful life is while you’re in the world_

_Crowley…_

The demon’s name kept echoing in Aziraphale’s mind when he heard the last few lines of the chorus. He couldn’t imagine what his life would have been like without Crowley.

 _Nothing would be the same,_ Aziraphale realized. Spending thousands of years on Earth would have been insanely lonely without Crowley, even if there had been other immortals around. Crowley was _different_.

_Anyway, the thing is, what I really mean_

_Yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen_

Aziraphale got so lost in his thoughts – remembering the way Crowley’s yellow, snake-like eyes shined on those rare occasions when he wasn’t wearing sunglasses – that he didn’t even notice that a customer had entered the shop and walked up to him until she cleared her throat awkwardly.

“This is my favorite love song,” she tried to break the ice.

Aziraphale looked at her, a little startled.

“Sorry,” the woman said, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, no, it’s… alright, really,” Aziraphale stuttered. “You just surprised me, that’s all.”

“Are you okay?” she asked. “You look a little lost.”

“No, I’m fine,” Aziraphale said with a forced smile. “I was just… thinking. This song reminded me of someone.”

“Oh, I _see,_ ” the woman said with a smirk. “Love songs tend to do that.”

“ _Love songs?_ ”

“Well, yes. You don’t sing a song like this to someone you’re not hopelessly in love with,” she explained and Aziraphale felt like he’d been struck by lightning.

“Oh my,” he muttered, more to himself than to the customer. He looked at her with complete and utter dread in his eyes, which made the woman chuckle.

“So, how long have you been in love with this person?” she asked.

“I… I mean…”

When she saw how uncomfortable Aziraphale got, she seemed to change her attitude.

“No, no, it’s okay, you don’t have to talk about it.” She shook her head. “I’m here to buy books, I shouldn’t ask you about your personal life. Sorry for being too nosy.”

“It’s alright,” Aziraphale reassured her. “What books are you looking for?”

“These ones,” she said, opening her bag, pulling out a piece of paper and handing it to Aziraphale.

“I think I have all of these,” the angel said after checking the list. “I’ll bring them out in a moment.”

Concentrating on finding all the items on the woman's list turned out to be one of the hardest things Aziraphale had done in the past century, including that one time he had to talk Crowley out of visiting Hungary in the middle of a bloody revolution in 1956, just because the demon had wanted to drink authentic Hungarian wine.

* * *

After the whole Elton song incident, Aziraphale couldn’t concentrate on reading, so he spent the rest of the afternoon rearranging his vinyl collection – but trying his best to avoid _that_ Elton John record.

It was around 6pm when he heard someone enter the bookshop.

“Angel? Are you here?”

Aziraphale recognized Crowley’s voice instantly.

“In the back room,” he yelled, panicking. He didn’t want Crowley to see him while he was struggling with his emotions; he would probably start asking questions – _uncomfortable_ questions that Aziraphale wasn’t ready to answer.

“Hello, Angel.”

When Crowley entered the room, Aziraphale quite literally forgot to breathe. Angels didn’t need to breathe anyway, but he got used to it because he had to keep up the appearance of being human. Right now, however, that was the last thing on his mind.

Crowley was wearing an elegant black suit with a black shirt and tie. His hair was nice, too – long enough to fall over his shoulders, part of it tied back in a small bun. Thank God he didn’t keep the hairstyle and mustache he had in the 1970s.

“I know, I know. I look hot,” Crowley joked when he noticed Aziraphale staring. “I had to tempt a businessman,” he said. Aziraphale almost asked him what kind of temptation it was, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

“I see.”

“Are you okay?” Crowley asked, taking off his sunglasses and looking into Aziraphale’s eyes. This didn’t help the situation but Aziraphale managed to collect himself.

“Yes, of course,” he nodded.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he insisted. His eyes wandered to the demon’s hands. “Is that wine?”

“Yes,” Crowley answered with delight. “I bought a bottle of red wine and some chocolate.”

“Thank you, my dear,” Aziraphale smiled at him, trying to hide how flustered he got. Even though he wasn’t human, he had read countless books on romance. He knew that a gesture like this was usually the indicator of a romantic date, not a friendly meeting.

 _I’m sure Crowley doesn’t know that,_ he thought to himself.

* * *

“Do you want more wine, my dear?” Aziraphale asked after they emptied the bottle that Crowley brought.

“Yes,” the demon nodded enthusiastically. “Definitely.”

Not wanting to leave the couch, Aziraphale miracled themselves two more bottles.

“Well, this isn’t too holy of you, is it now?” Crowley teased. “Using your powers to bring alcohol into existence.”

Aziraphale shot him a death glare.

“What?” Crowley asked innocently.

Aziraphale stayed silent as he opened one of the bottles and poured wine into their glasses.

“Oh, I almost forgot! I have something for you!” he said after setting the wine bottle on the table. He ran into the other room, grabbing the Queen albums he bought earlier and bringing them to Crowley.

“Here,” he handed them to the demon.

“Are these for me?” Crowley asked in disbelief, taking the records in his hands and looking at them wide-eyed.

“Yes,” Aziraphale nodded.

“Thank you so much,” Crowley said, looking up at the angel. He placed the records on the table carefully then stood up in front of Aziraphale. He stepped close to the angel slowly, as if he was testing the waters, and put his hands on Aziraphale’s shoulders. The angel wrapped his hands around Crowley’s waist in response and pulled him into a tight embrace.

They stood like that for a few minutes, neither of them saying a word. Crowley buried his face in the crook of the angel’s neck and held him so tight that if Aziraphale had been human, it would have been painful for him.

 _Why is he breathing so fast?_ Aziraphale wondered as he felt Crowley’s chest heave up and down.

He decided not to dwell on the question too much; he chose to focus his attention on how _heavenly_ it felt to be in Crowley’s arms and how soft the demon’s hair felt against his cheek. Crowley smelled of coconut, which was new.

“I’ve tried a different shampoo today,” Crowley murmured as if he could read Aziraphale’s mind. “Humans keep coming up with amazing new scents, I had to try one of them.”

“It’s nice,” Aziraphale whispered. “You smell nice.”

“Thank you.”

After a few moments of silence, Crowley pulled away a little to look into Aziraphale’s eyes. He opened his mouth to speak again but he didn’t know what to say.

“I’m truly grateful, Angel. I’m just not good with… _emotions,_ ” he finally declared.

“Well, apparently, neither am I,” Aziraphale said. He caught Crowley’s gaze drifting down to his lips, which made him let go of the demon instantly, not wanting the situation to become too dangerous. He wasn’t sure he could trust himself not to kiss Crowley if he remained so close and kept looking so… _tempting_.

“Do you… Do you want to drink more wine?” Aziraphale asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” Crowley nodded with a little too much enthusiasm. “I definitely need more wine.”

* * *

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck._

Crowley couldn’t stop cursing himself when Aziraphale pulled away. He should have known better than to stare at the angel’s lips like that, no matter how undeniable they seemed.

Now Aziraphale looked extremely uncomfortable as he poured wine into their glasses in silence. They both kept their eyes on the ground as they sat down next to each other.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley spoke in a soft voice once they were sitting. The angel looked up at him. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Crowley couldn’t decide if Aziraphale was really that oblivious or if he just wanted to hear the demon say it out loud.

“For…” Crowley took a deep breath to calm himself down. “For wanting to kiss you. I know you noticed. And I’m sorry.”

The next few moments were the longest of Crowley’s life. Aziraphale kept looking at him without saying a word, with an expression Crowley couldn’t decipher. He waited patiently but Aziraphale seemed so lost in his thoughts that Crowley began doubting he would ever speak again. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Crowley decided to take the matter into his own hands. He straightened his back and took a sip of his wine before speaking.

“Look,” he said, “I know it’s wrong and I promise it won’t happen again, I don’t want to lose our… our friendship… You’re important to me, Aziraphale, you’re the only creature in this goddamn universe that I actually like, I don’t wanna lose that because of these… _stupid thoughts_ , and…”

“You wanted to kiss me?” Aziraphale interrupted, still frozen.

“Well, yes, I thought that was rather obvious,” Crowley said. “Isn’t that why you pulled away?”

“No,” Aziraphale whispered. “I pulled away because…” He closed his eyes and sighed before speaking again. “Because you were too close and I wanted to kiss you.”

He opened his eyes, looking at Crowley anxiously.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I said I wanted to kiss you,” Aziraphale repeated, louder this time. “But…”

“There’s always a ‘but’, eh?” Crowley sighed, looking at Aziraphale again.

 _He looks so sad,_ he thought. He wanted nothing more than to see his angel smile again.

“I’m sorry but we can’t risk it,” Aziraphale said, turning his whole body towards Crowley and putting one of his hands on the demon’s shoulder. “Being allies, being _best friends_ is risky enough already. Imagine if someone from Upstairs or Downstairs were to find out that we’re in love with each other… They would be furious. I can’t put you in that much danger, my dear. I can’t risk your life because of my selfish desires.”

_In love with each other._

That was everything Crowley had ever wanted to hear from Aziraphale, but right now it only broke his heart. What did it matter that the angel loved him back if they couldn’t do anything about it without risking _everything_?

“Please, Crowley, believe me, I’m _so_ sorry,” Aziraphale continued, his eyes full of tears. He tried to hide it by turning away but Crowley noticed anyway. “I wish things were different…”

Crowley cupped the angel’s face in his hands. Aziraphale turned back to him.

“I know, Angel,” he said reassuringly. “It’s okay. I understand.”

“What do we do now?” Aziraphale asked.

“I don’t know,” Crowley answered. He wanted to seem calm and collected but his words came out rather desperate. “I guess we continue everything as it’s been in the past few millennia.”

“I’m not sure I can do that,” Aziraphale admitted.

“Neither am I,” said Crowley. “But if we want to protect each other, we have to try.”

“I suppose you are right, my dear,” Aziraphale said. “But I want you to know,” he continued, taking Crowley’s hand in his own, “that I love you. And I will _always_ stay by your side. If you let me,” he added nervously.

“Of course I’ll let you, you silly angel,” Crowley laughed bitterly, snaking his arms around Aziraphale.

* * *

After their confession, Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship remained almost the same as it had been before, except for a few, subtle changes. Now that Crowley knew Aziraphale returned his feelings, he didn’t try to hide the longing in his eyes whenever he looked at the angel anymore. He was both delighted and heartbroken to discover that most of the time Aziraphale looked back at him with that exact same longing. Both of them were careful, though, not to get too close to each other physically. The furthest they could go was brief hugs and handshakes that lingered on just a moment too long. Sometimes, when they got extremely drunk and they were sure no one was watching them from either side, they would cuddle on Aziraphale’s couch, but they didn’t ever talk about those instances once they were sober again.

Everything changed, however, after they’d stopped Armageddon together.

_“You can stay at my place.”_

Aziraphale understood the deeper meaning behind Crowley’s offer, but he still hesitated to accept. He was still afraid of Heaven and Hell, but as Crowley said, neither of them had a side anymore. They only had each other.

So, he followed Crowley home, his heart full of excitement and anxiety. He knew what he was getting himself into.

When they arrived at Crowley’s apartment, Aziraphale stopped in the hallway, looking at Crowley hesitantly. He wanted to say _so much,_ yet nothing came out of his mouth.

“I thought I’d lost you,” Crowley broke the silence before Aziraphale could articulate his own thoughts.

“I’m sorry,” the angel replied, stepping closer to Crowley. “I’m sorry for everything.” He took Crowley’s sunglasses off and he was surprised to find some teardrops rolling down the demon’s cheek. They’d known each other for six thousand years, yet Aziraphale had never seen Crowley cry before, not even once. “Can you ever forgive me?”

“There is nothing to forgive, Angel,” Crowley said, half laughing. “ _I_ was the foolish one, not you.”

“Don’t say that, my dear,” Aziraphale shook his head. Before Crowley could start arguing with him, he stood on his tiptoes and leaned towards the demon. He gave more than enough time for Crowley to pull away if he’d wanted to, but he did the exact opposite; he grabbed Aziraphale by his waist, pushed him up against the nearest wall and kissed him like it was the end of the world. In a way, it was. Both Heaven and Hell knew that they were the ones responsible for Armageddon not happening; there was no way they weren’t going to get punished for it.

There was nothing gentle about their kiss, not after six millennia of pent-up emotions. Aziraphale buried one of his hands in Crowley’s soft hair, pulling him even closer. Crowley pushed his knee between Aziraphale’s legs and lowered his lips to the angel’s neck.

“Oh dear,” Aziraphale whimpered as Crowley began sucking a hickey into his skin.

“I’ve waited too long for this,” Crowley rasped. Aziraphale felt his stomach flip.

“And was it worth it?” he asked.

“Fuck yes,” Crowley groaned as his lips found Aziraphale’s again.

* * *

Neither Crowley nor Aziraphale slept a minute that night, for three perfectly understandable reasons.

Firstly, angels and demons don’t need to sleep. Sure, both Crowley and Aziraphale grew to enjoy it occasionally, but now they were not sure how much longer they had before they’d get dragged away to get tortured and killed; sleep was not exactly how they wanted to spend their time left.

Secondly, they had other things to do. Mostly each other.

And thirdly, they were busy trying to find a way to somehow survive the wrath of both Heaven and Hell.

“My plan _could_ work,” Aziraphale insisted after explaining to Crowley what he thought Agnes’s last prophecy meant. They were lying in bed, completely naked, Aziraphale facing away from Crowley, who was curled up to him from behind. Crowley wrapped his whole body around the angel, their arms and legs tangled together. It was quite uncomfortable, really, but they were willing to sacrifice comfort in favor of being as close to each other as possible.

“It’s too dangerous,” Crowley said after a few moments of silence. Aziraphale couldn’t argue.

“If we don’t do this, we are going to die for sure,” he said. “If we do, we might survive.”

“‘ _Might’_ is precisely my problem here,” Crowley replied. “What if one of us comes out alive but the other doesn’t? I don’t think I could live without you.”

“Please, Crowley, we need to try!” Aziraphale was desperate. “This is our only chance to save each other!”

“The odds are against us, Angel,” Crowley warned him.

“I know,” Aziraphale said. “But if there’s a chance, no matter how slim, we _need_ to try.”

“Okay,” Crowley agreed, pulling Aziraphale even closer to him. He never wanted to let go.

* * *

Much to Crowley’s surprise, their body swap trick actually worked. Neither Upstairs nor Downstairs suspected a damn thing, and now here they were, still alive and still together. It was a miracle, really.

_“I asked them for a rubber duck and made the archangel Michael miracle me a towel.”_

For the first time in a really long time, Crowley genuinely laughed. He’d known from the start that Aziraphale would do an impeccable impression of him, but the angel was even better than he had imagined.

_“Let me tempt you to a spot of lunch?”_

_“Temptation accomplished.”_

While they were on their way to the Ritz, Crowley couldn’t stop wondering what the recent events meant to his and Aziraphale’s relationship. He wanted nothing more than to finally make it official, but he wasn’t sure what Aziraphale wanted. Maybe he thought the previous night was a one-time thing; something that happened only because they thought they were going to die.

_“To the world.”_

_“To the world.”_

Crowley could have sworn his food tasted better than it ever had since he’d come to Earth and judging by Aziraphale’s face, the angel felt the same way. Crowley couldn’t help but watch as Aziraphale took his time, savoring each bite as if it was his last. Every now and then he let out tiny moans of appreciation, which gave Crowley some entirely unholy thoughts.

“You’re staring, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, pulling the demon back to reality.

“Sorry,” Crowley said after clearing his throat. “I was just thinking. What do you say we head back to my place after dinner? Let me tempt you to some fine red wine.”

“That sounds _wonderful,_ ” Aziraphale said with a smile, emphasizing the last word heavily.

“You know, you’re quite easy to tempt, Angel,” Crowley teased.

“Yes, I’m aware,” Aziraphale nodded, not sounding guilty at all.

Crowley intended to come up with a sarcastic remark, but before he could say a word, Aziraphale reached out and took his hand, interlocking their fingers.

“Angel?” He looked at Aziraphale questioningly.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale spoke in a soft voice. “Now that Heaven and Hell will leave us alone for a while… I thought we could… We could, perhaps, if you want to, you know, we could finally… be together?”

Crowley chuckled as he listened to Aziraphale stumble on his words.

“Of course,” he said, squeezing the angel’s hand. “There’s nothing I want more.”

* * *

“So, what do we do know?” Crowley asked while sipping on his wine, cuddled up to Aziraphale on his couch. “No more orders from Upstairs or Downstairs. We can do _whatever_ we want.”

“Oh, well,” Aziraphale began, “there are lots of things we haven’t tried before.”

Crowley grinned at him suggestively.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Aziraphale rolled his eyes.

“Shame,” Crowley said.

Aziraphale didn’t answer but leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Crowley’s lips.

“I’m up for experimenting, you know,” he said after pulling away. “But what I meant is that there are plenty of things in this world that I haven’t had a chance to try.”

“You made a bucket list?” Crowley asked.

“Yes, actually, I did.”

“Tell me about it,” Crowley encouraged him. “I’m sure there are lots of things we could try together.”

“Well, for starters, there are quite a few movies I have never seen.”

“Okay, watching movies is literally the easiest thing in the world,” Crowley said. “What else do you want?”

“I also want to read books I haven’t read before. I want to try… erotic literature. Have you ever heard of Fifty Shades of Grey?”

“No, no, no, stay away from that one,” Crowley frowned. “It’s horrible.”

“How do you know?” Aziraphale asked. “Did you invent it?”

“No, the humans came up with it all by themselves,” Crowley said. “But I did invent Twilight. And fanfiction. I didn’t think this was where it would lead, though.”

“I see.”

“Okay, tell me something you want to do that requires going outside.”

“I want to travel,” Aziraphale said. “There are so many countries I have not visited in centuries. We could go to Canada, for example.”

“Canada it is,” Crowley agreed immediately. “We deserve a vacation anyway.”

“I want to go to Pride Parade as well,” Aziraphale said.

“Alright, I want that, too.”

“Also, there is one more thing,” Aziraphale continued, quieter this time. “Not outside, but… _in the bedroom_. Actually, there are _several_ things I want to try,” he confessed.

“Oh, _really?_ ” Crowley asked with a self-satisfied grin. “We can definitely arrange that.”

“That’s exactly the answer I was hoping for,” Aziraphale said as he leaned over, kissing Crowley passionately. It didn’t take long until he was sitting in the demon’s lap, his hands running over Crowley’s chest.

“You know what’s the best thing about being immortal?” Crowley asked, pulling away a little.

“What?”

“We have all eternity to do this,” he smirked as he looked into Aziraphale’s eyes.

“All eternity…” Aziraphale repeated with a smile before kissing him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments are appreciated.
> 
> If you have found any grammar or vocabulary errors while reading, please let me know, so I can correct them.  
> (English is not my first language, but I'm trying my best.)


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